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Zusatztext West Ashby seems to have it all—looks! a football future! and any girl he wants. No one! not even his closest friend Brady! knows that his dad—West’s biggest fan—is dying of cancer. Two years ago! Maggie Carleton saw her father murder her mother! and once she told police what happened! she refused to speak another word. Now Maggie lives with her cousin Brady’s family! and when she meets West! she sees the pain in his eyes that no one else recognizes. The bond between West and Maggie grows! and eventually Maggie rediscovers her voice to walk West through his father’s final days. Aided by chapters that alternate between West’s and Maggie’s perspectives! what could be a typical romance—both are drop-dead gorgeous and could have anyone they want—is raised to a new level by Maggie’s self-imposed silence and the grief they are both experiencing. Glines’ novel will be welcomed by fans of Lurlene McDaniel who want something with more depth. Informationen zum Autor Abbi Glines is the New York Times , USA TODAY , and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of the Rosemary Beach, Field Party, Sea Breeze, Vincent Boys, and Existence series. A devoted book lover, Abbi lives with her family in Alabama. She maintains a Twitter addiction at @AbbiGlines and can also be found at Facebook.com/AbbiGlinesAuthor and AbbiGlinesBooks.com. Klappentext In the small town of Lawton, Alabama, star high school quarterback West Ashby meets new girl Maggie Carlton, both of whom are battling feelings of grief and sorrow.Until Friday Night Ain’t She Sweet CHAPTER 1 MAGGIE This wasn’t home. Nothing ever would be again. And besides, I didn’t want a home—the word came with memories too painful to think about. I knew my aunt Coralee and uncle Boone were watching me closely as they led me through the house. They wanted me to like it here—there was a certain hopefulness in their eyes. I didn’t remember what hope felt like. It had been so long since I’d hoped for anything. “We gave you a room upstairs. I painted it a pretty cotton-candy blue,” Aunt Coralee informed me cautiously. “I remembered that you liked blue.” It’s true that I had liked blue a few Christmases ago. Had even worn all blue one year. I wasn’t necessarily a fan of it now, though. . . . I followed both my aunt and uncle up the stairs. The family photos lining the wall made me turn my head back around and stare straight ahead. I’d had those once too. Photos that my mother proudly displayed on the walls of our home. But those photos had been lies. The smiles were never real. “Here it is,” Aunt Coralee announced as she stopped halfway down the hall and opened the door to a large bedroom. Other than the blue walls, everything else was white. I liked it. If I weren’t afraid of my own voice, I’d tell her thank you. Instead I put down the backpack from my shoulders then turned and hugged her. That would have to be enough. “Well, I certainly hope you like my room,” a deep voice drawled from the doorway. “Brady, don’t,” Uncle Boone said in a stern voice. “What? I was just being nice,” he replied. “Kinda . . .” I only remembered my cousin Brady a little. He had never played with me at family events, was always running off with one of the buddies he’d brought with him. Now he was leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, brown hair falling into his eyes, a smirk on his face. He didn’t seem happy. Oh God, had they given me his room? That couldn’t be good. I didn’t want to take his room. “Brady’s just being a brat,” Aunt Coralee explained quickly. “He’s perfectly happy about moving to the attic room. He’s be...
